


Writings on the Wall

by Vozana666



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:04:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5182991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vozana666/pseuds/Vozana666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short fanfiction from Jefferson's perspective, talking about the tale of Rachel Amber.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a random little fanfiction I decided to write, which is all due to a bunch of jokes between me and a friend. I realise that this fanfiction will definitely not be perfect and might contradict some of the canon plot points in the video game - but I don't really care and this is just something I came up within a few hours. So, please do not complain if some facts to contradict canon elements in the game, such as when certain students went to school or when certain people worked at the school or when certain people were killed. I'm not trying to make this so amazingly perfect it could be considered as a canon piece of work. I'm not trying to be thought provoking. I'm just writing because it is fun.
> 
> Thank you. Any insults or whatever will be deleted.

Prologue

 

 

I wouldn’t say I loved her, but I did have a certain amount of appreciation for Rachel Amber – and I wish things hadn’t ended the way they did.

 

 

RACHEL ~~WAS~~ HERE

    IS


	2. Rachel

Chapter 1: Rachel

 

 

My life is strange.

 

I’m sure a lot of people say that about their life and at many stages of it too – but it’s been within the last couple of weeks since the new school term at Blackwell started that things have been changing – becoming stranger for me than they ever have before.

 

New students aren’t uncommon – in fact in this school, we’re getting them all the time. But this new student in particular has set me on edge. Rachel Amber.

 

She’s a student in my photography class, she sits at the back of the room and she listens to me attentively. Other students zone in and out and as much as it bugs me, it is expected of teenagers. But Rachel listens. She never stops listening. She picks up on the tiniest of things that nobody else seems to remember because they weren’t listening at the time. Other teachers might find this flattering. I find it disarming.

 

Rachel, admittedly, isn’t the best student I’ve ever had – here I’m talking about her photos. They’re enough to achieve a good grade, by my standards, but they’re nothing special. But not everybody can be an amazing photographer.

 

It’s at the end of one class, where I’ve been talking about a contest coming up that happened every year – Everyday Heroes – that she walks up to me, holding a photo.

 

“You’re entering a photo for the competition?” I ask, sounding surprised.

 

Rachel nods, handing me the photo. It’s of a tree, in the middle of a sunset, yellow pinks and gold’s all captured in the one photograph.

 

“Rachel, you know this isn’t your best work,” I mutter, looking down at the photo, “I, personally, prefer your black and white photos.”

 

She nods, “I know,” she says. She sits down on one of the chairs in the classroom and looks at me, “if I’m honest, I’m really not that into photography,” she says slowly, “I’m more interested in being in front of the lens than being behind it.”

 

She says it in a flirtatious tone which catches me by surprise, but all she does is give me a small smile, stands up, and leaves the room without saying another word. I’m still holding her photograph in my hand, and I look down at it, and suddenly the photograph has numerous amounts of different meanings to me – and it’s exciting.

 

Rachel Amber is like a sunset, beautiful, unique, and multiple colours all at once.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

Rachel Amber always stays behind after class with some excuse or other. Handing in a photo at the end of class rather than during class like the others with excuses like, “I thought I left it in my room, but I found in my bag when I was putting my stuff away.”

 

It’s tiresome - repetitive. It comes to the point where I snap at her.

 

“Rachel, what are you up to?” I ask, sounding irritable, “you keep hanging back behind after class – why?”

 

Rachel looks at me with a conflicted look before sighing; sitting down on top of one of the desks in the classroom, looking around at all the photos on the walls – other students work, one piece of work is hers – one of the only black and white photos in the room.

 

“You never put my work up on the walls,” she mutters, “why?”

 

I can’t tell her that the reason none of her other work is displayed around the class room is because I like to keep it for myself. I have had a couple of favourites over the years, both students and their photos alike. Majority of the photography ends up going into small binders I own. None of my older students have noticed if some of their work is missing from the classrooms walls.

 

“Can you just answer my question?” I ask. Then it clicks, “are you avoiding someone?” I ask, sounding a little too alarmed for my liking.

 

At that, Rachel freezes and tenses up before a look of anger crosses her face, “what, you think I can’t take care of myself?” she asks, sounding livid, “fucking hell Jefferson – you can be such an idiot.”

 

If I was shocked before, nothing compares to how I feel now as she walks out of the classroom, slamming the door behind her. A photo frame from the wall falls off from its place and the glass smashes loudly, on the ground. I sigh. The janitor can clean that up for me later.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

It’s been a tiring night. Filled with photographs, a particularly drugged up model from a club I visited last week and a dark room. She’ll stay there for the rest of the night, tied up with no way out. I’m ready to retire for the night, knowing that my sleep will be peaceful. There is no more feeling of being on edge now that I have taken the photos I like to take – the woman will only be alive for one more night. A few more new photos and then certain death will be coming her way.

 

I’m heading towards the school building when a loud, female voice shouts out my name. I fill with dread.

 

I turn around, and standing behind me, or should I say swaying behind me, is a drunk Rachel Amber. She’s smiling at me goofily but there’s something cold in her eyes that I find myself disliking immensely.

 

“You’re still a fucking idiot.”

 

“You should be in bed,” is all I manage to say as Rachel staggers towards me, tripping over her own feet at one point but miraculously regaining her balance.

 

“I don’t really care,” Rachel says, with a small shrug and a smirk. She continues to walk towards me. She stops when she’s right in front of me and wraps her arms around my neck. It’s weirdly satisfying.

 

“You might be an idiot,” she drawls, “but you’re...an _attractive_ idiot,” she says, giggling. Once again I’m shocked – Rachel Amber really is full of surprises.

 

“Take me back to your room,” she says in a demanding tone, “now...I wanna...” she blushes, “you know...”

 

“That’s not really appropriate-.”

 

“Dude,” she says, laughing slightly, “as long as I’m of age – nobody is going to give a fuck...if you fuck me,” she laughs again, obviously finding herself to be funny – otherwise I’m missing a joke.

 

Before I can say anything else, or even pry her arms from around my neck, she kisses me. The strong taste of Vodka is on her tongue, so strong it’s almost as if I’ve had a couple of drinks myself. She pushes back slightly, looking dazed, “that was awesome,” she says softly before grabbing my hand and dragging me behind her.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

That is the night I slept with Rachel Amber. It was an interesting experience. I’ve never been all that into relationships, but sex is always great and Rachel Amber certainly knows what she’s doing. In the morning when I wake up in a bed that isn’t my own, she smiles beside me and then her eyes widen, “you can’t tell anyone about this.”

 

“What happened to no one giving a fuck?” I ask, sounding bemused.

 

She bites her lip, “look...” she shrugs, “just...don’t tell anyone. Okay?”

 

I nod. No skin off of my back.

 

She gets out of the bed and starts getting changed, shamelessly in front of me. I, however, stare at the ceiling, wondering how this will backfire on me – like all things tend to.


	3. Nathan

Chapter 2: Nathan

 

 

Nathan makes a good little apprentice – and a good cover up for if things ever go wrong. He’s suspicious, mentally unwell, and the first person I will place blame on. He sits across from me, looking nervous as I eat my lunch.  


“So...what’s the deal with Rachel Amber?” Nathan asks, looking anywhere but at me.

 

“What makes you think I know something?” I ask. If Nathan knew something was up, it wouldn’t be long before everyone else found out too.

 

“Well,” he says, looking at me briefly before looking away again, “she seemed really happy today...and, well...she’s in your class so...I wondered...”

 

I shake my head, “no – I have no idea what’s going on with Rachel Amber.”

 

He looks like he wants to ask me something else, but he doesn’t say a word. He just sits there, looking uncomfortable, and I continue to eat like I don’t have a problem in the world – which is quite the opposite of how I feel.

 

“Are you...going to kill that woman tonight?” he asks, swallowing harshly, loudly enough for me to hear.

 

“Not exactly business you should be talking about while in school Nathan,” I say, giving him a dirty look, “you don’t want me to get caught, do you?”

 

I know, personally, that Nathan really couldn’t give a damn if I got caught – that would mean being out of trouble. If I got arrested and there was no way I could prove my innocence, or that Nathan had done it, then it would be like an early Christmas for the younger boy – and if there’s one thing I’m not, I’m definitely no Santa Claus. I will not be giving him what he wishes for more than anything in the world as a Christmas gift.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Another body buried, another job done. I feel satisfied. New photos to add to my binder, this one in the binder named Jessica. She was young, beautiful and most of all – innocent. Shy in the middle of the club, she stood out like a sore thumb, holding her drink tightly to her chest but making the mistake of setting it down for two seconds to tie up the laces on her converse shoes. Oh the naive and innocent – they make this ‘hobby’ of mine so much easier.

 

Nathan stands with his hands behind his back, gazing around nervously, as if expecting people to jump him at any second. He looked up at me as soon as I’ve finished burying the body, looking positively terrified.

 

“Can we go now?” Nathan asks, stuttering slightly, “you know I don’t like coming here.”

 

Indeed, I do. I just don’t care.

 

I pick up my shovel in gloved hands and walk back towards Nathan’s car – Nathan is following me but he’s trying to get out of here so quickly he may as well just walk past me. He’s tired, stressed. Mental illness is taking its toll on him. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

 

“Why don’t you try listening to music – or whale sounds,” I say randomly, trying to start a conversation. He doesn’t reply, however, until we get into the car.

 

“What do you mean?” he asks, sitting in the driver’s seat, looking irritated and confused, “music? Whale noises?”

 

“You look like you haven’t slept in weeks,” I say. I touch the bruised tissue underneath his eye and he swats my hand away, looking uncomfortable. It’s amusing to me, to say the least.

 

“I need to get back to school,” Nathan said, “I have an assignment I need to finish and Victoria will be wondering where I am.”

 

“What, another stupid Vortex Club meeting?” I ask, cocking up a brow.

 

“Shut up!” Nathan snaps, starting the car, “you know what’s stupid!?” he asks, looking at me pointedly before looking at the rear-view mirror as he reverses, onto the road, “this stupid fucking hobby of yours. You hurt people. You fucking _hurt people for no fucking reason_!” he snaps, beginning to drive forwards and glaring straight ahead, “you have some sick fucked up God complex. It is bull shit!”

 

I sit back in my seat, feeling a little angry. If it wasn’t for the fact that Nathan is driving the car, and it would have been bad for any future cover story I might need, I would have hurt him. But I sick back and look out the window, trying to arrange my features to appear normal – not angry in the slightest. When I next turn to look at Nathan, he’s too busy keeping his attention to the road. I don’t say anything else that might distract him.

 

“I’m meant to be going out tonight,” Nathan says suddenly, “with Victoria and...Uh Rachel.”

 

“Okay,” I say, “why do I care?”

 

Nathan doesn’t say another word but instead continues to drive. While he is quiet, it gives me time to click and something seems to click into place.

 

Rachel. Nathan _likes_ Rachel.

 

I could almost laugh at the irony, but I choose not to for fear of Nathan asking why I’m laughing.

 

Rachel Amber is no longer a beautiful, unique sunset that is more than one colour at a time, showing more colours the longer you’re in her presence. She is now a puzzle piece, a pawn in my game of chess. A powerful motivator if Nathan ever needs one – and I’m sure eventually he will.


	4. Binders

Chapter 3: Binders

 

 

As soon as Nathan drops me off, he speeds away back to the car park closer to the dorms. I go to my office, grab my own keys, and go to my car in the staff car park. I sit in the driver’s seat for a moment and just breathe. It’s been a busy day, and I’m beginning to feel a little on edge again. Maybe it’s because of what Nathan said earlier – about my supposed God complex. Nathan Prescott isn’t exactly the brightest – nor does he understand art.

 

I put the keys in the ignition and reverse out of the car park before taking off.

 

While on the road I try and clear my mind of any anger resting there from my earlier discussion with Nathan, and by the time I get to the old barn I find myself calm again. I stop the car, grab my keys, and make my way into the old barn. It’s old and looks abandoned from the inside, and it’s not quite what is in the barn that interests me, until you find some hidden stairs leading underneath the barn.

 

The dark room, I like to call it. Quite fitting for what I do down here.

 

The first thing that grabs my attention is a bunch of new red binders sitting on the desk. I got Nathan to buy them for me earlier. I grab a permanent marker and grab the little slips of paper sitting in the pocket on the spines of the binders and write down three new names.

 

-          Lynn

-          Kelly

-          Rachel

 

I slip all of them back into the pockets and grab the Rachel one. It’s completely empty and yet it’s already the most interesting and I think about all the images I could put inside. But, at the same time, I don’t want to. I don’t want to do that to Rachel. It’s only for motivation if Nathan ever needs it.

 

I hide it where I know Nathan won’t find it and turn away from it before adding Kelly and Lynn to the shelf.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

Kelly is done. Nathan’s work was sloppy. The whole time he sat in the background, talking to himself about someone. When I was burying the body all he did was sit on the ground, in the dirt, and talked to me about Rachel.

 

I snap. I hit him over the head and shout at him to shut up. He looks at me, confused and frightened, and I don’t know what to say. Right now isn’t the right time to bring up that I have a binder with Rachel’s name on it, waiting. But I’m so, so tempted.

 

On the way back to the school building, it’s silent. The fact that it is pitch black except for the road illuminated by Nathan’s car’s headlights makes the silence even more eerie. It’s been a tiring day and I’m almost tempted to sleep. But I wouldn’t trust Nathan with my life, even if he were the last person on Earth.

 

When Nathan drops me off and speeds off once again, I don’t feel as angry as last time, and so I head towards my car feeling relaxed, almost...floaty. And then I hear shouting.

 

“Rachel I swear – if I fucking find out you’re sleeping around-!”

 

“You _really_ think I would that to you Frank?!” is Rachel’s offended reply, “Now, you need to get out of here. Before security arrives.”

 

“David Madsen? He can’t do _shit_!”

 

“Frank, just go!”

 

There’s a sound of silence before a car door slams and the squealing of tires echoes through-out the campus. There’s the sound of a dog barking as the car goes down the road but no other sound follows. It then clicks why Rachel wanted me to keep quiet. She has a boyfriend – Frank. Frank obviously isn’t happy with the prospect of Rachel sleeping around – like most people in relationships aren’t happy when they find out their significant other is cheating on them. I head towards my car and before I drive off, I think I hear Rachel calling my name.


	5. Rachel in the Dark Room

Chapter 4: Rachel in the Dark Room

 

 

Nathan has officially screwed up, big time. I can’t believe him. I can’t believe what he’s done - him and his pitiful lust for Rachel Amber has finally gone too far, and now it’s come to the fact that Rachel is a threat. Rachel needs to be taken care of.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Rachel is unconscious, sitting in a chair, her wrists and ankles stuck to the arms and legs of the chair. Nathan sits behind me, breathing heavily, muttering darkly to himself, over and over. I smirk in satisfaction as I prepare my camera for some shots. I knew this would affect him, and frankly he deserves it. He’s pitiful and this really proves that fact.

 

Rachel stirs slightly and Nathan gets out of his seat, repeating Rachel’s name over and over and telling her that he’s sorry. I glare at him and tell him to shut up and he does, like an obedient little puppy. As I said – he’s pathetic.

 

“What the fuck...” Rachel mutters, glaring around the room, being blinded by the lights pointed directly at her face. It creates a nice shadowing on her face and makes her cheekbones stand out much more than they actually do. It’s pleasant and will look amazing, captured forever in a black and white photograph.

 

“Hello Rachel,” I say coldly, not trying hard to mask my satisfied smirk, “sleep well?”

 

She glares at me, this time not because of the bright lights, “you’re a bastard!” she shouts at me, “This isn’t funny! Let me go!”

 

I smile, “oh Rachel, if only it were that simple...”

 

Nathan is sitting beside me, practically biting off the tips of his fingers. He’s sweating, nervously. He knows there is no way I’m backing out of this and one way or another Rachel is going to be another body that will be buried - unless he finds some way to overpower me, which is incredibly unlikely. He knows if he tries anything, I won’t hesitate to kill him to. He’s screwed up too much now – he’s becoming too much of a liability that I am more than willing to get rid of him even if that means I can no longer blame the deaths of multiple girls on him.

 

“Rachel, open those pretty hazel eyes for me – I like my subjects to look awake for some of my shots,” I say, positioning the camera in front of her face. She tries to kick me but realises that her legs are stuck to the chair. She growls out in frustration, trying to break free, but it doesn’t work and she throws herself against the back of the chair, sighing in defeat and begins to cry.

 

I take a few shots but realise this won’t do. The crying just doesn’t sit right with me – not because I pity her or feel guilty. The crying isn’t art. It feels forced. I tell her to stop crying and get Nathan to grab a rag and wipe the tears from her face. She doesn’t try to bite Nathan like I secretly hoped he would. A girl did that to me once and I hoped Rachel would have that same ferocity – but it appears I misjudged her.

 

I take photos when she stops crying and her face is less blotchy. I’ve already taken photos of her unconscious, so these are the last photos of Rachel Amber I’ll ever take. Though, I do have one more special one in mind, but it depends on how things go.

 

When I’m done, I walk over to the desk and grab a syringe – I hand it over to Nathan.

 

“Inject it into the neck,” I tell him, “don’t screw up this time.”

 

Nathan’s nervous as he creeps towards Rachel who is trying to move her neck in a way that prevents Nathan from getting at it, but only serves to expose it more. He puts the needle to her neck and pushes it into her skin. I turn away and connect my camera up to my computer and in the corner of my eye, see Rachel slump in her chair – if it weren’t for the bindings, she would have fallen onto the floor.

 

Nathan sighs, seeming to calm down. She’s unconscious, so nothing bad can surely happen to her, I know that is what Nathan is thinking. Nathan simply thinks she’s asleep – but I know for a fact that I gave her too much of a dose.

 

Nathan thinks she’s asleep. I know she’s dead.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

To serve as further punishment for Nathan slipping up information about the dark room, I tell Nathan to lie on the ground and then place Rachel’s body near his own. He looks up at me, confused, tears welling in his eyes. I simply smile and say it’s for insurance.

 

After I take the photo he looks at Rachel’s body, tears slowly streaming down his face, “so, you’re going to kill her now...?”

 

I almost laugh, but refrain from doing so, “oh, no, didn’t I tell you?” I ask, “She’s already dead.”


	6. Obstacles

Chapter 5: Obstacles

 

 

It is not long after the ‘disappearance’ of Rachel Amber that MISSING posters are put up around Blackwell. Some thin stoner girl with short blue hair – she also hands out some of the posters to students. I notice that when she hands one to Nathan, he curls the poster into a ball and eats it, as if even touching it and leaving it in the bin is evidence against him.

 

Ever since that night when I buried Rachel Amber and forced him to help for once, he’s been more anxious. It’s amusing, but it also makes me feel a little on edge. Nathan is becoming even more of a problem than from when Rachel was alive and he leaked information about the dark room while intoxicated.

 

I know that one day I’m going to have to remove Nathan, and that it won’t be pretty, and I might get caught not too shortly after that, but if there’s even a slight possibility of not getting caught, then I’m willing to try. But, I still have that photo of Nathan with Rachel, which I’m sure for now is plenty of insurance and evidence against him if that is ever needed.

 

Nathan and Rachel and many others who have been involved in my little hobby are just another set of obstacles while I try to create my art.


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue

 

 

It’s a new term and it’s hard to believe that it’s been so long since Rachel Amber ‘disappeared’. The blue haired girl never stops giving out posters and putting new ones up whenever someone rips them down or covers them up with things they deem more important.

 

There is a new student in my class. Max Caulfield. She sits in Rachel Amber’s old seat, almost like she’s destined to be there. Because I have a feeling there’s something special about her too. Something about her that Rachel Amber also once had. There’s that spark - a glint in her eye. Though, admittedly Max is a better photographer.

 

I wonder what will come next for me.

 

I wonder if it’ll have anything to do with Max Caulfield.

 

 

 

RACHEL ~~IS~~ HERE

      WAS


End file.
